


your unending thirst is gonna be your downfall kid

by ghostlypng



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Despite the title, Fluff, He's just head over heels, M/M, No Smut, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Sappy, lazy day, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 14:58:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11648970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlypng/pseuds/ghostlypng
Summary: Shiro and Keith revolve like stones around the sun and quietly stay in love with each other.





	your unending thirst is gonna be your downfall kid

"So." Shiro leans back on the part of the couch he occupies in the common room. "Part Galra."

Keith groans a bit exaggeratedly. "Not you too, please."

Shiro laughs, eyes holding a shimmering hint of his affection. "Maybe you'll grow some fuzzy little kitten ears." He feigns deafness, pretends he can't hear Keith's protests. "Though a large pair would be pretty cute too. Ones big enough to rival Kolivan's maybe."

"Shiro!" He can see that Keith is smiling though.

 _There you are._ Shiro thinks. He turns his full smile on to Keith who's now playfully trying to wrestle him down into a chokehold. This is his Keith. Scowling but laughing. Strong and full of wild energy. A mix of Human and Galra genetic codes intertwined somewhere in his past and present. Loved by Shiro, simply as he is.

“Come on.” Shiro playfully fights back, hands going for Keith’s scalp. “We should see if they’re coming in! Just let me feel!”

“Shiro what-!” Keith makes to twist out of Shiro’s grasp as fingers work down through his hair to massage his scalp with little back and forth motions. A low little grunt of contentment reverberates out from the hollow dip at the base of Keith’s throat. “You’re rude..”

Keith’s pretend complaint makes Shiro laugh. Never at Keith, only out of amusement at his never ceasing ability to seem mean. Shiro tells him. “You’re so mean. Should I stop then?” His hand slips back and slides down just enough to rest on the back of Keith’s neck.

“I didn’t say for you to.” Keith protests, a rock thudding its way down a hill of damp reddish brown dirt. A thump-thump of irregular yet slow hits that are close enough to match his heartbeat. The solidness of Shiro’s hand that contains natural warmth from blood flow squeezes Keith’s neck, still gentle. It picks a rhythm to go by, kneading at the muscles under and guiding them to relax. Keith buries his face into the gap between Shiro’s arm and chest as knots untangle themselves with Shiro’s supervising touch.

“Keeeith.” Shiro draws his name out.

“Nn.” Keith responds, not quite feeling verbal.

“Keith.” Shiro’s shoulders start to shake lightly and, though his hand hasn’t stopped moving, Keith can already tell he won’t like where this is going. “Why are you sniffing my armpit? That’s a little bit gross buddy.”

“You-!” It takes about two seconds for Keith to remove himself from where he’s wedged and an additional three seconds for his fist to meet Shiro’s shoulder with an introductory punch. “Don’t be gross, you nasty.”

“Ow Keith.” The first few hits don’t actually hurt, Shiro just stays laughing. Curling in on himself a little bit to protect his vulnerable middle in jest while Keith keeps his punches coming. “Ow, ow Keith.” It stops being as cute and funny with the repetition of hit after hit landing down to abuse the same spot without pause. Keith pauses halfway into launching his next attack.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Keith’s hand coming to rest on the spot and soothe, still makes Shiro flinch the tiniest bit. They both settle down. Quietly waiting to see the direction the moment is headed.

“I- “

“It’s -”

They both grab words to steer the conversation, their overlapping sounds making them both smile. Misunderstandings between them were still as hard to come by as rain in the desert.

“C’mon.” Shiro tugs Keith back close, letting him cling tight to his vest as he lays back on the couch. He takes it as flattery that Keith would hold tight to him through what was maybe the sensation of a slow free fall.

“Good time for a nap.” Shiro had nightmares when he slept, but it was Keith who was afraid to fall asleep. You can lead a horse to water but you cannot make it drink. This was Shiro, doing his best to bring Keith to water. Or maybe it was him bring water to Keith. _You want him wet. Oh god. That’s not what I meant._

The point of Keith’s chin dug into Shiro’s ribs. “Hey, Shiro.”

“What is it?” Shiro pushed his odd and embarrassing thoughts away, dividing his focus up to keep lids on many things. One of which is the way Keith’s bony knee was digging into his leg.

“Are you actually comfortable like this?” Keith didn’t wait for him to answer, already wiggling up a bit and shifting so that he was slightly more on top of Shiro’s side. “Better. I mean that’s better right?”

His voice is so quiet, knowing Shiro’s ear was close to it now. Keith could feel Shiro nodding under his cheek. “Good.” He shifts one or two more times before drifting off.

Shiro dozes lightly under him. Waking a little to rub Keith’s back, when he could feel Keith starting to grind his teeth from a dream. He wakes again, this time after falling asleep hard enough to leave his eyes and mouth dry and sandy.

Keith has somehow turned in his sleep and managed to squeeze his body halfway into the small space between Shiro’s side and the back of the couch. Shiro wonders how he isn’t suffocating with his face shoved tightly between the two. He finds it charming and, he’ll probably never tell Keith this, just plain adorable.

He doubts they’ve been asleep very long so he’s careful when he shuffles around, moving Keith back up and out of his hole. The sudden air circulating there makes him realize his side is damp from sweating over Keith’s body heat. Plus a large wet spot that’s unquestionably from Keith drooling on him.

Shiro waits for an impossibly long, stretched out set of minutes before he can’t stand it any longer. He does his best to not jostle the sleeping Keith around too much as he sits and stands with Keith gathered up in his arms, now drooling on his shoulder. He wonders at how long it’s been since Keith slept and slept soundly.

At some point between walking from the common area to Shiro’s room the drool stops and Keith’s breathing changes but Shiro lets him pretend. Neither of them says a thing as Shiro sets Keith down onto his own bed and drapes the sheets over him.

Shiro thinks he can feel Keith’s eyes on his back as he takes his sweaty vest off and pulls off the even sweatier shirt that was underneath. Keith knows the rough and scarred landscape of his back better than Shiro himself. Keith is the one of the two who is not afraid to look and to see.

Shiro comes out of the bathroom after a shower that leaves the bathroom steamy with fogged mirrors and Keith is gone. The bed sheets are tightly made to their usual military standards. It’s a quiet thoughtfulness from Keith that carries Shiro back to his musings from his shower. Each thought a pointing notion of how Keith had grown from a boy Shiro dedicated himself to helping into a man that Shiro dedicated himself to loving. He dresses slowly, his mind mostly caught in the undertow of unfinished ideas of at what point the line had blurred and faded without his realization.

They don’t meet up again till later in the evening. Shiro’s sitting on his bed reading, or at least attempting to decipher the book of Altean poetry Allura had loaned him. His door slides open and Keith comes in, flopping face down on the bed. Shiro can smell the floral scent of conditioner on Keith’s damp hair on the pillow beside him.

“You’re gonna get tangles if you go to sleep like that.” He tells Keith.

Keith turns his head to watch Shiro set his book down and shuffle under the covers. “It’s fine.”  
They both know if it gets too bad or too annoying Keith will just cut it off anyway. It’s just that Shiro would rather prevent it from coming to that. He’s fond of the way Keith looks with hair that gently curls in to frame his high cheek bones. Shiro puts blame on the poetry for making him feel so sentimental.

“Messy.” He jokes, poking at Keith’s sides to make him jolt and squirm. “You’re such a rugrat.” True to it, Keith sticks his tongue out at Shiro who goes after his sides, tickling him without mercy.

Keith does his best to fend Shiro off till they’re tangled together, sides hurting with laughter. Their play fighting rolls down into soft nuzzling and kisses. Keith’s hands wander up Shiro’s shirt just a little bit, just enough to feel skin.

“You want to talk about it now?” Shiro’s spent the day waiting for this moment to come back around to try talking to him again about their side trip. He knows also that the word “want” is relative in the context he’s using it in. It’s more about Keith’s willingness.

“Not yet.” Keith rests on Shiro, smiling just a little. A million different emotions held back behind his lips and teeth. “But maybe in the morning.”

Shiro presses his lips to Keith’s forehead. “Okay.” And it is.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk I'm just tired of sad/angsty Sheith so I wrote some fluff just because. 
> 
> leave your comments at my door.. just kudos me some more...


End file.
